


Dream a Little Dream

by HelloTragic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 01:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15499590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloTragic/pseuds/HelloTragic
Summary: He’d loved her for years, but had never said anything. Then the war came, and it was too late.One night, one dance, one last chance…





	Dream a Little Dream

**Author's Note:**

> repost

Inspired by the song [Dream a Little Dream of Me.](https://youtu.be/h7j8wa9sWOE)

 

They swayed back and forth as the music played. Her body molded perfectly to his as their steps fell in line perfectly. He’d dreamed of this moment so many times over the last few years. He’d dreamed that he’d finally gather the courage to speak with her, to ask her for a dance, and she’d accept, flashing him that smile she reserved just for him. He’d walk her home as the gentleman that he was. Her hand, so small and delicate, would rest in his, and with just the right amount of sincerity, he’d part for the evening with by pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

 

Never once had he envisioned the reality of it. They’d heard rumbling of fighting somewhere in Europe, but had never expected the war to find itself on their door steps. He’d awoken to the radio alerts of the attack on Pearl Harbor, watched the news as Roosevelt had given an impassioned speech. He’d watched as the country found itself in the forefront of it all, unwilling to stand by any further. Men had gathered in droves to enlist in the army, ready to defend and protect. And when Liam had announced that he’d answered Uncle Sam’s call, Killian found himself signing away as well.

 

He knew what he was getting into. He had no grand delusions about the romanticism of war as some of his comrades did. It would be messy, and likely long. Lives would be lost, husbands and fathers leaving their families for the final time. There’d be days he’d wish for death, friends he wouldn’t be able to save. And there was always the great chance that he’d be one of the men returning home in a wooden crate, if he was lucky enough to return home at all. He’d considered all of this as he signed on the dotted line, but what he’d never considered was the look she’d given him that night.

 

One final farewell for all of the boys shipping out the next day. They’d all put on their best, and all of the eligible ladies in town had donned their nicests dresses to send them off. Liam had always been a ladies man, and as soon as the Jones brothers entered the dance hall, he’d immediately found a woman he’d been smitten with. Killian had been the more reserved brother. He’d had his share of admirers make themselves known to him, but he’d never engaged them in anything beyond polite conversation. For since the moment he’d arrived in town as a young man, he’d only ever had eyes for the girl that lived next door. He’d been too shy to approach her on his own, ever only having spoken to her in a group.

 

Yet, she’d captivated him. Her laughter was angelic and her heart shone just as golden as her hair. Her eyes were like a siren’s calling him to the deepest depths of the sea. He’d never stood a chance against her, and he’d felt so unworthy from the start. The few interaction he’d managed had left him tongue tied, and his stomach in knots.

 

He wondered if he would see her that night. If she would be one of the lovely lasses coming to say goodbye. He wondered if she’d even notice that he’d gone. His eyes scanned the room. So many people had turned out, not surprising given that everyone in Boston loved a good party, regardless of the reason. Even a funeral could be found as an excuse to celebrate those days. Yet he continued to look, and just as his hope began to fade, his eyes found hers, locked on him, and he swore, for just the briefest of moments, he saw her features fall. And then she was gone.

 

He’d searched for her for most of the night, but the dance floor had been too crowded. Liam had danced with more than a few woman that night before telling Killian that he was retiring for the evening, a blonde woman glued to his side. Killian smiled, knowing that his brother had no plans of sleeping that night. Not that he could blame him. Although a gentleman through and through, Liam was no saint. It was something Killian had been slightly jealous of. Not that he wanted to bed anyone, but just the ease with which his brother found himself with the fairer sex. What he wouldn’t have given to have inherited even a drop of that from their father. No, instead he’d only gotten the man’s dark hair.

 

It wasn’t until the end of the night that he found her again, dancing to some new song he’d never heard of. Her partner twirled her around the floor and it turned him inside out, seeing her with another bloke. When the song ended, the man bowed to Emma, and walked away to find a new partner. Emma had just left the dance floor when Killian finally managed to gather his wits.

 

“Swan.”

 

“Jones.”

 

She was curt, something he’d never seen from her before. It had taken every bit of courage he had to even approach her. He wouldn’t let himself give up so easily. Not when it would almost certainly be his last chance. Even if he did come home, there’s no way Emma would still be single. He was certain that some wealthy business man would have surely snatched her up by that time.

 

“May I have this dance?”

 

Emma stood there for a moment, almost hesitant, before finally accepting his arm.

 

“Emma, if you’d rather not…”

 

He’d been a fool to think she’d ever say yes. He’d known that it was a long shot when he’d asked, and it was obvious that she was uncomfortable.

 

“No, it’s not-” She cut herself off as a new song began to play, pulling him further onto the dance floor.

 

It was a slow song, and they were silent as they began dancing. When the song finished, he was certain that she’d leave, but she only moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as yet another song began to play.

 

 

> _Stars shining bright above you_

 

Her chest moved closer still until she was fully pressed against him.

 

 

> _Say “nighty night” and kiss me_
> 
> _Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me_

 

It wasn’t until half way through the song, during an instrumental section that he heard her sniffle, and as his eyes moved down to take in her face, what he found devastated him. Tears fell down her cheeks, and her eyes, while closed, were red and puffy.

 

“Emma?”

 

She didn’t pull away, and she didn’t open her eyes either.

 

“I didn’t realize you were leaving.”

 

“I’m sorry, love. I should have told you. I just didn’t know if-” he took a deep breath, ready to bare his soul. “I didn’t know if you’d care.”

 

At that her head moved and her gaze bore into his.

 

“Killian, I-” her voice broke and a fresh wave of tears fell.

 

 

> _Stars fading but I linger on, dear_
> 
> _Still craving your kiss_

  
She hugged him tighter and they continued to sway back and forth, back and forth.

 

“I waited for you.”

 

Her words were so soft, he’d almost missed them.

 

“I waited for you, and now I’ve missed my chance.”

 

He felt his heart flutter. The whole time, she’d felt just as he had, and he’d been too foolish and scared to ever do anything about it. To ever tell the girl next door that he’d been hopeless in love with her from the start.

 

“Emma, I’m so sorry. I should have told you. I should have-”

 

She cut him off, her soft lips pressed against his. The kiss, chaste as it may be, lingered as the song faded out.

 

 

> _Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you_
> 
> _Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you_
> 
> _But in your dreams, whatever they be_
> 
> _Dream a little dream of me_

 

He walked her home that night, and they sat on the steps outside her home long into the night. Both content to just be with the other, not saying anything really, just holding hands watching the stars shine above them.

 

She’d promise him that she would wait for him. He tried to change her mind, not wanting to frighten her, but also not wishing to fill her with false hope. He couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing her. She’d remained resolute in her decision though.

 

Months passed, the odd march had seen them to villages where the men often partook in nightly activities with local women. Things that wives back home would never know of. But despite offers from the many beautiful lasses, Killian had remained true to his love for Emma back home. He’d rather die untouched, than sully himself. He’d never forgive himself if he had.

 

The months turned to years. He wondered if Emma was still waiting. He couldn’t possibly fault her for moving on if she had. She was young and beautiful. On some nights, he almost hoped she had, that she’d found comfort in someone else. He wanted nothing but her happiness. On the worst of nights though, he couldn’t help the selfishness that crawled it’s way into his bones along with the cold. War was hell, and he needed the thought of her to survive the winter nights.

 

The war seemed to be turning, the allies gainer the upper hand. They were on the offensive, taking more and more victories. The morale had sky rocketed, but the arrogance and cockiness of it had been their downfall. Feeling invincible, the men had missed it. One lone man hidden inside an old tank. They’d assumed that the smoke coming from the hatch had been the result of the unit ahead of them, but it had been a decoy.

 

He found himself on his back, a whistling sound filling his hears. Screaming and yelling all around him. Everything hurt, until it didn’t, and as he laid there, waiting for death, his last conversation with Emma filled his mind.

 

_“Emma, if I don’t make it-”_

 

_“No, don’t you dare say such things, Killian Jones. You’re coming home to me!”_

 

_“Swan.”_

 

_“No, promise me, Killian. Promise me you’ll come home.”_

 

_“Emma, I swear to you, I’ll do my best. I’ll always fight to make my way back to you. But if by chance I don’t, know this. I will dream of you every night, and the last thought I’ll have will be of you and this night. Of holding you in my arms as we danced.”_

 

And so thoughts of them, on that rickety old dance floor in that smoke filled dance hall filled his head. And the last thing he saw was her smile.

 

 

> _Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you_  
> 
> _Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you_
> 
> _But in your dreams, whatever they be_
> 
> _Dream a little dream of me_

 

* * *

 

Pain, agonizing pain. He was awoken by his own screams, his face covered in sweat. Looking around, he saw men strewn about him as far as the eye could see. He looked down to find bandages in place of his left hand, his clothes tattered. The air smelled of rotting flesh, and he knew the number of dead far outweighed the living.

 

He felt arms placing pressure on his shoulders as he attempted to push himself up from the ground.

 

“You need to lay down. Your body is in shock right now.”

 

“Liam!”

 

He tried to push himself up again but his head began to swim and his vision faded back to black.

 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep for. He was still on the ground, somewhere in the middle of France, alone. Liam should have been there, watching over him, ensuring that he was ok, but he wasn’t. This time Killian remained silent as he pushed himself up. His head was still fuzzy, his hearing dulled. His hand still hurt, but not nearly has badly as before. They’d obviously given him something for the pain.

 

Killian glanced out in the space around him, walking from row to row searching for Liam. He wasn’t there. Finally, he grabbed the attention of a passing field medic, who informed him that they’d only gathered the surviving members of his brigade there. Unwilling to accept the implications of what that meant, Killian stumbled back to the last place he’d seen Liam. And that’s where he found him, his eyes still open in surprise.

 

He wept for hours, cradling Liam’s body in his arms, not giving a damn about any further damage he’d done to himself. When a young soldier found him, he refused to go, unable to leave Liam. But the private insisted - they were still exposed, and there were far too many to bury. It took more than a few men to lift Killian from his brother’s side, to pull him away from the only family he had left. Killian screamed and tried to fight them off, but they were stronger, and Liam Jones was left behind somewhere in France.

 

He’d spent two months in a hospital in England. A fever had nearly consumed him, burning him alive from the inside out. Some nights he tried his hardest to give in, to let the fever overtake him, so he could return to his brother’s side. Other nights, all he could do was think of his promise to Emma.

 

_I’ll always fight to make my way back to you._

 

Would she even want him, though?  A cripple who could never hold her as she deserved to be held?

 

When they’d deemed him healthy enough to leave, orders came down from upon high. Killian Jones, a one handed man, was no longer fit for duty and was to return home. The letter thanked him for his service, and that was that. The boat ride home had been long, many injured men joining him, many seasick from being tossed around in the waves.

 

His house was still there waiting. The grass had grown a bit higher than he was used to, but then again, it had been years. The porch was dusty, and the front door stained with dirt. The old key that Liam had stashed was still in its place, hidden under a rock in the yard. As he made his way inside, he went straight for his old bed, not even bothering to inspect the rest of the house. Seeing everything would have been too painful, so instead he slept with a belly full of rum.

 

The incessant knocking pulled him from his slumber. It was still dark out, but he wasn’t sure if it was dark from that night still, or if he’d slept into the next evening. The knocking continued, turning into pounding. Once he realized it wouldn’t stop, he finally trudged to the front door, still wearing his wrinkled clothes from his journey home. Throwing back the door, he stood agape at the vision that greeted him.

 

“Killian?”

 

He hadn’t time to respond before her arms came around him, and he was too stunned at first to return the affection.

 

“How? How are you here?”

 

And that’s when he remembered his mangle arm, the grotesque stump where his hand once was. The hand that had once rested on her back as they swayed to music.

 

“I-”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

Her smiled melted his soul and he hated himself all that much more for it. How would she see him when she knew the truth, that he was only half a man?

 

Sensing his hesitancy, she stepped back, her arms brushing down his. Her left hand cradled his right, and her other hand slid down to find nothing. He swallowed, waiting, waiting for her to leave.

 

“Oh, Killian.”

 

He tried to step away, to put a wall between them before she could break his heart.

 

“It doesn’t matter. You’re home, that’s all that’s important.”

 

Not bothering to wait for an invitation, Emma pushed past him into the house he’d once shared with his brother. She took a seat on the couch, next to the window he’d watched her from. When he refused to sit next to her, she rose and went to him, cupping his face in both of her hands.

 

“You listen to me, Killian. I’ve waited two long years to feel your arms around me, to hear your heart beating in your chest, to feel the warmth of you next to me. I’ve dreaded every knock at the door, every ring of the telephone, every delivery from the mailman. I’ve waited so long for the man I love to return home to me, and now that he has, I’m not letting him go without a fight.”

 

There was so much conviction in her voice, and for the first time since arriving back on American soil, Killian Jones finally felt like he was home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always you can come yell at me on tumblr: wellhellotragic


End file.
